


Along the Dotted Line.

by princesscommanderlexa



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, Sad, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, a few made up characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-03
Updated: 2015-07-03
Packaged: 2018-04-07 12:26:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4263213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princesscommanderlexa/pseuds/princesscommanderlexa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She was a simple farm girl who climbed trees and rose early to watch the sunrise. She read every bit of literature she could get her hands on. And she dreamed of a life where she could read forever, watch the sun rise, and look at someone the way her father looked at her mother. She was a simple girl with complex dreams of braiding the dark hair of her own child by candle light, and chastising her own strong sons behavior. Alexandria was a girl who loved with her whole heart, who had been tricked into signing up for a life of battle and hardship and heartbreak before she could even properly pronounce some words. She had been so young when she was taught to become an adult. She had been so young when she learned that life was to fight and to do anything other than that was to be weak. She had been so young when she killed a man. She had been so young when she lost the girl she loved. </p>
<p>This is the story of Lexa. <br/>To the tune of Mars by Sleeping At Last.<br/>(or atleast how I think it would probably go)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Along the Dotted Line.

**_We laid our names to rest_ **

**_Along the dotted line._ **

**_We left our date of birth_ **

**_And our history behind._ **

She started out as a common farm girl with strong, calloused hands in a world far away from what she knew to be real. A little girl of eight years old, with a world that was one block wide with parents that protected and sheltered her, brothers who pushed and shoved her in loving ways, a little dog with three legs and a big heart. She was a dirty little girl, with a family that didn't have much more than a tiny cabin and a medium-sized farm. It was just enough to keep them alive, scraping by on milk and bread. Originally, she was known by all of maybe thirty people as the sweet little Alexandria, the one who hated dresses and climbed trees, who always kept up with her chores and picked up her brother's chores if they were forgotten. She was the little girl with the temper that was like fire, dangerous and hard to tame. But back then, she was also the little girl who cared. The little girl who took the blame when he brothers broke the window in the kitchen, the little girl who stood in front of the bully who tried to pick on someone who had done nothing wrong, the little girl who woke up early to watch the sun rise and read every piece of literature her brother's brought home from lessons. 

She became Lexa when her parents lost their farm, and her brothers had to go to work at twelve years old. She became strong when her father told her that she had to help the family, that he found a job for her far away from home. Lexa remembered packing what little she had. She remembered looking at the candle her mother once brushed her hair by, the candy wrappers she had saved from the time the missionaries came bearing gifts and spreading hope about the City of Light, and the little straw doll that her brother Alec had once given her as a gift for her birthday. But she also remembered sitting down on the horse behind a large man with a braided beard and a dark, unflattering mask. He was quiet, and her parents and brother's looked at her so proud. "Come spring, we will see you." Her father whispered as he kissed her cheek goodbye. Lexa remembered wondering why, if she was coming back, this felt like a goodbye. Nobody, she would come to find out, told her that she had been chosen. It was something her mother always whispered about. For years, her mother thought that it would be Alec, who with his strong arms and lean build would have suited the job she had been given quite well. Her father expected it to be Caspian, who was kind yet just with a strong mind and strong legs that could take him far in the world. 

Nobody told her that to be chosen meant to be sold. Nobody told her that to be chosen meant to lose who you were before, and pick up a new identity. Nobody told her that to be chosen meant she could never see her family again. At eight years old, she had to figure this out for herself. 

**_We were full of life,_ **

**_We could barely hold it in._ **

**_We were amateurs at war,_ **

**_Strangers to suffering._ **

"You will be called Lexa," They told her. 

And they moved on to a boy they called Everest, who had golden blonde hair and mischievous blue eyes, a girl called Demetrius, who was taller than the rest of us and had angry eyes that dared you to come near her, boy and girl twins called Cyan and Cyprus, who were both smart yet strong. But the one that caught Lexa's eye was a girl called Costia, who had long black hair and bright eyes, who saw her watching and gave her the kindest of smiles. These people would be who Lexa would learn beside, who she would grow up beside, who she would sleep next to each night. They were all so young, all so bright eyed, strangers to the world around them, just as she was. She would learn to respect these people, and fall for one. She would lose two in battle, one to torture. But she didn't know that yet. She was, after all, only eight years old. 

Everest, the boy with the golden blonde hair and mischievous blue eyes, was her best friend for the first three years she lived with the wood clan. He was the one that stole fruits from the soon to be Commander, Anya, to give to her. He was the one who taught her how to shoot her arrows so she never missed, to throw her knife so that it did the most damage, to think outside the box and to keep her mind open. Everest had come from the water, far away from where they were now. He had been the youngest of nine, was always getting in trouble for his elaborate pranks. He had a sharp mind and a nice smile. He never faltered in his decisions, never left anyone behind no matter how small or useless Lexa might have thought they were.

Demetrius or sometimes called Tris, the tall girl with the angry eyes, hated Lexa like the feline hated water. She lived to destroy her, lived to beat her. She had come from the dead zone, the only child of a father who was too angry and mother who was too sick. She wanted to be the commander's second. She spent all of her time practicing, never speaking to anybody unless they got in her way. However, despite her warrior stance and tough exterior, Demetrius cried herself to sleep more often than not. She was the last to fall to sleep, and the second to rise, the first being Lexa, who liked to watch the sun rise. For the entire time she lived with the wood clan, Demetrius attempted to make her life hell. She pushed her down and demanded fights, she ripped apart her things, and spat nasty words at Lexa. But Lexa was too strong for her type, and instead, only stared into her eyes with a fire that was unwavering. She never gave into the fight with Demetrius, which lead to gaining her respect in the end.

Cyan and Cyprus, the smart twins, were the backbone of Lexa's group. They were the ones who helped Lexa plan their attacks, the ones who thought of every alternative, the ones who always knew the right thing to do in the moment, who could calculate every outcome within seconds. Lexa was friends with them. She taught them how to throw their knives, how to fight hand to hand, how to survive. They, in turn, saved her during her darkest hours.

Costia, the girl with the kind smile, was not training to be a warrior, although she still had to learn to fight and survive like the rest of us. Costia was training to become a healer, and at the age of eleven became the assistant to the healer of the Wood Clan, called Lucus. Costia, was the one who who found fields of flowers after training and created intricate crowns out of them. Costia was the one with the assortment of rocks found throughout the woods with the light colors and sparkly exteriors. Costia was the one who taught Lexa to stand down in those fights Demetrius always called for. She was the one who mended her wounds after every battle. Costia was the girl who ate apples for breakfast and refused to the death to kill an animal. She was the girl who got whipped for standing up for what she believed in, and she was the girl who could not care less how angry her beliefs made the clan sometimes. Costia was the one who always kept Lexa's gaze, and never let it go.

**_Our backs against the wall,_ **

**_We're surrounded and afraid._ **

**_Our lives now in the hands_ **

**_Of the soldiers taking aim._ **

Their first battle. Lexa was thirteen. 

She remembered backing up against a tree, trying to convince herself not to be afraid. 

She was not so brave back then. She had never killed a man, she had never seen blood spill from the bodies of the dead, she had never seen the life sputter out of anyone. Indra, her teacher, had taught the group to never falter. To stand idle was to be weak, to hide was to be weak, to be afraid was to be weak. If a warrior hid during a war, that meant she could be found. To be found meant imprisonment, or death. To die such a death was to lose all honor, to lose the fight they trained so hard for. She learned not to wear her life on her sleeve when a women tightened her grip around her throat, and held a knife to her neck. She learned not to hide when she climbed up a tree and they tried to burn it down. She learned not to be afraid when she watched Costia slash through the woman's skin and pull her into her arms. She learned to be brave when she saw Everest dying at the hands of another boy, and the only way to save him was to kill the soldier taking aim at his life. She remembered shooting that arrow, aiming it at his ear and watching him fall to his knees and bleed. She learned to fight when a man tried to hold her down, and the only way to avoid his skin touching hers was to slash his wrists with her teeth. She remembered the blood flooding into her mouth, and spitting it in his eye. She remembered stabbing him in the lung, and then the liver, and once more in the heart. 

She remembered Costia sitting in her garden of herbs, her eyes glazed over with thoughts of what she had seen. She was a healer, meant to save people, not kill them. She remembered Everest, whose sly smile was gone and replaced by a scowl that only left his face when Lexa crawled into his bed at night. She remembered her own nightmares, the ones she thought would never leave. She wondered what her mother would think of her, what her father would say, what Alec would do, what Caspian would say. She wondered until she cried, and she cried until she couldn't anymore. 

This was what it meant to be a warrior. Blood. War. Death.

Gone were the days of stolen fruits, childish fights, and searching for colorful rocks without any idea of what it meant to be a warrior. 

**_Our questions ricochet Like broken satellites:_ **

**_How our bodies, born to heal, become so prone to die?_ **

And god, did she remember when Costia went missing.

Oh god, does she remember the panic that rose in her chest when her bed was empty, the flowers she always wore in her hair doused in her own blood which marked the trail of where she went. Costia hadn't been around to mend the broken bones of a man who had gotten so badly hurt in battle he could hardly breathe. She hadn't been around to slip a parchment to Lexa, asking her to meet where they always did, to do what they always had. Lexa remembered sitting in Costia's herb garden, watering them, picking the weeds, and thinking of her eyes. Those pretty green eyes that were so kind, that despite the battle scars they had seen never became any less innocent. And Lexa knew who took her. And she knew she couldn't stop them, because the clan had tried once before to stop torture with that clan but they were the most terrifying of all the clans. Lexa could feel the anger rising in her body as she thought of what they might be doing to her. And so she tried to think like Costia, and she tried to think of the good instead of all the bad. So she filled her mind with Costia's smile, her tender kisses, and her gentle touch. 

She tried to remind herself of the woods at night, when Costia would meet her under a deformed tree that proved good shelter. How melodic her laugh was, how soft her hair could always be no matter how dirty it was, how she sounded during nights of pleasure. But this only made Lexa angrier. This only made her wonder why such a beautiful person had to face such ugly. It only made her sick. It only made her want to fight. 

But there was hardly any point, because Costia was dead by the time the clan had awoken that morning. 

She had been beaten and tortured, decapitated. She had been folded up and put in a box that had been placed on Lexa's bed two weeks later. 

And that is when she couldn't breathe anymore. When she opened the box to find Costia's face sliced and slashed and destroyed. 

That is when she became the Lexa everyone knows now. The ruthless, unrelenting, sometimes inhumane one. 

She became Commander Lexa far before she earned the title. 

**_Though time is ruthless,_ **

**_It showed us kindness in the end,_ **

**_B_ ** **_y slowing down enough,_ **

**_A_ ** **_second chance to make amends._ **

But just when Lexa thought that her fight was meant to be bloody, 

Time showed her kindness in the end. Time gave her a blonde with blue eyes and an imprudent tongue. A girl who risked her life for her people, for a girl she had only just meant. Time gave her a girl who was a fighter to the world, and a lover to her. Time gave her Clarke Griffin, who was kind and brave and in no way weak. And life gave her a second chance, a chance to learn to love again, to care, to admit that she felt pain even though it meant that the memories of what she once had would come flooding back. Lexa remembers sitting in her chair, playing with her knife and staring down at the girl who seemed so weak upon first sight. With her golden blonde waves, her small frame and gentle hands, Lexa could have laughed at her until she was in tears. She used her usual tone with Clarke Griffin, expecting fear in return. 

"So, you're the girl who burned three hundred of my warriors alive." She said plainly. 

She expected an apology. From experience with other Sky People, she had concluded that they would do most anything for peace. She expected the girl to get on her knees and beg for forgiveness, to choke up and not know what to say, to not be able to meet her eyes. She did not, however, expect the girl to look her directly in the eyes and say:

"And you're the one who sent those three hundred warriors to kill my people." 

Lexa show have been angry by this statement. Had anybody in her clan spoke to her this way without permission, they would have been severely punished. Expect this kind of bravery only reminded her of a girl that she loved a long time ago. The only girl who would look her in the eye and slap her when she was being rude, but then smile behind a row of flowers just hours later. Clarke Griffin gained her attention this way, by speaking out of turn and not caring that she could have her head on a stick for such a tone. But it was not then that Lexa knew that this girl was perfect, or even that Clarke had made her feel love again. No, it was that night in the cage with that disgusting creature that tried desperately to kill her and Clarke. It was the night that Clarke said, "Because I need you." Lexa knew she said more. But she couldn't exactly recall what all she said. She knew that it wasn't in context. She knew that Clarke only wanted the alliance to stay intact. But Lexa couldn't focus on that because she was falling for a sky princess and because Clarke had made a smile form across her face that night. Clarke knew how to do that, simply by being there, by begging her to do the right thing, by just being who she was in general. But it was that night that Lexa's heart grew three sizes bigger. 

 

 

_**Our nights have grown so long.** _

_**Now we beg for sound advice.** _

_**"let the brokenness be felt 'til you reach the other side.** _

_**There is goodness in the heart** _

_**Of every broken man** _

_**Who comes right up to the edge** _

_**Of losing everything he has."** _

Now, Lexa sat alone in her tent. 

While her people rejoiced and welcomed their old friends back home, Lexa allowed herself to do something she hadn't done in far too long. She allowed herself to cry. To weep so long that she fell into a deep slumber just afterword. And she allowed herself to feel, to feel the love Clarke had given her, to feel the pain of Costia's death, to admit that she was afraid. And when she stopped, she pulled from her pocket a drawing that Clarke had no idea she held in her possession. A self- portrait of Clarke from before she came to the ground, a picture of her before the nights grew long and she slept very little. Before her mother became afraid of her, and her friends angry with her. Before Lexa betrayed her and ruined everything she could have had. Clarke's eyes in this picture were hopeful, so young and free. She had so little pain in her eyes, her face clean of battle scars, her hair perfectly golden.

Lexa knew that betraying Clarke was the worst thing she had ever done.

She knew that there were better ways she could have gone about things. She knew that Clarke was her second chance and that she had lost that too. But Lexa also knew that she and Clarke would meet again, weather in life or in death, and she would fix things. She wouldn't hold back when they met again. She would feel, she would love, and she wouldn't be afraid. Instead of losing everything she could have had, she would earn it all back.  But even as she convinced herself of this, a voice in the back of her head whispered, "There are somethings your just can't fix."

 

**_We were young enough to sign_ **

**_Along the dotted line._ **

**_Now we're young enough to try_ **

**_To build a better life. To build a better life._ **

Alexandria was once a girl with dreams. 

She was a simple farm girl who climbed trees and rose early to watch the sunrise. She read every bit of literature she could get her hands on. And she dreamed of a life where she could read forever, watch the sun rise, and look at someone the way her father looked at her mother. She was a simple girl with complex dreams of braiding the dark hair of her own child by candle light, and chastising her own strong sons behavior. Alexandria was a girl who loved with her whole heart, who had been tricked into signing up for a life of battle and hardship and heartbreak before she could even properly pronounce some words. She had been so young when she was taught to become an adult. She had been so young when she learned that life was to fight and to do anything other than that was to be weak. She had been so young when she killed a man. She had been so young when she lost the girl she loved. 

But she was still young. 

And she was still just a girl. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I worked hard on this! Hopefully its okay..


End file.
